Pemberley
Friday, 23d April, 1813

Dearest Sister,

I have just returned from a delightful walk on this beautiful Spring day. Pemberley abounds in fine walks and today I noticed columbines about to bloom and hints of what is to follow: the whole of the shrubbery border will be gay with pinks and sweet-williams before many more weeks have passed. The syringas, too, show signs of coming out. Indeed, to sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon such pretty sights is the most perfect refreshment, is it not? For some reason, though, the smells of Spring and the wild flowers I gathered along the way today have made me very nostalgic for Longbourn and especially for you, remembering many such walks we have made together in many Springs.

No, dear Jane, do not worry, I am not unhappy (indeed, far from it), but how I wish that you and I could enjoy the present happiness of our new lives without having had to change anything of our former happy lives! I wish you had been with me on my walk today, that we could have had our usual pleasure in our own quiet company, climbed my favourite hill to seek the exquisite enjoyment of air on its summit and to admire the incomparable Derbyshire vista, then turned home to Longbourn where Mary would be reading, Kitty and Lydia trimming a bonnet, Mamma exclaiming over a piece of gossip from Aunt Phillips and Papa hidden behind the newspaper.

Such an ungrateful creature, I hear you say. There she sits in the comfort of Pemberley with a handsome, adoring Husband and his loving Sister, complaining that she would rather be elsewhere! But you would be wrong, my dear Sister; I do not complain at all. It is just that this beautiful Spring day reminds me how much I miss my family, especially you, and my reverie conjured up an ideal world where everything that used to be still is, and where Pemberley is just a brisk walk from Netherfield and Longbourn.

Now I have scolded back my senses and hasten to assure you that I am in excellent health and good humour. My Father is in good spirits and spends his days here quietly and happily, mostly in the library as you would expect, but I did persuade him yesterday to take a short walk with me as the weather was finally sunny and warm after several cold, wet days. He said he had enjoyed the exercise and looked forward to exploring more of Pemberley’s grounds; however, when I invited him to accompany me today, he declined politely, saying he would prefer to finish the book he was reading. He and Mr. Darcy continue to enjoy each other’s company. I observe an unaffected, easy kindness of manner on both sides, denoting an older acquaintance than it really is, though perhaps my imagination supplies what my eye cannot entirely reach and what my heart desires? But I think not, for Mr. Darcy has more than enough matters of business to take him from home if he chooses, yet he seeks my Father out and Papa is by no means averse to the attention.

Last week, Sir Richard Mansfield paid us a visit to introduce his widowed Cousin and her two daughters to our acquaintance. (You will recall that Sir Richard gave them a cottage on his estate after they had been left in reduced circumstances following the death of their Husband and Father.) We had a very pleasant time, and while it is clear that they still feel the loss of their Husband and Father deeply, all three made every effort to take their share in the conversation.

Mrs. Norland is very pleasant and smiling, but her smiles are more a matter of course, understandable in the circumstances. Miss Anna Norland, the elder of the two daughters at nineteen, appears to be a kind, intelligent, unaffected individual, very solicitous of the comfort of her Mother and the honour of her family. I do not perceive wit or genius, but she has sense and some degree of taste and her manners are very engaging. Something in her manner reminds me a little of Eleanor Steventon—I am not sure quite what it is—perhaps because they have both been unfairly burdened by responsibility at an early age? Or disappointed in love? But I am becoming too fanciful.

The younger Sister, Fanny, takes after her Mother; indeed, the resemblance between them is strikingly great. Fanny is an accomplished pianist and having heard of Georgiana’s fine instrument asked if she might play it. Miss Norland gently chided her Sister for her boldness but Georgiana graciously took Fanny’s hand and led her to the music room where we all followed and were very well entertained by both. Fanny does not have Georgiana’s shyness and is probably not as moderate in temperament, but they have a love of music and poetry in common and I hope they may become good friends. Georgiana would benefit greatly from a wider acquaintance of her own age and Miss Fanny Norland cannot be more than a year or two her senior.

Sir Richard was his usual, ebullient self so that conversation was not wanting. His unaffected sincerity in the kindness he has shown to his Cousins does him great credit, the more so since he never speaks of it. I like him more and more.

Lady Mansfield, by the way, was not of the party. Fancying that one of her children might have a slight fever, she felt obliged to stay at home. She begged forgiveness and hoped that once the perhaps-slightly-feverish child was restored to good health, Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy and the Norlands would visit her and the children very soon. She would keep us informed of the perhaps-slightly-feverish progress. Having conveyed his wife’s apologies, Sir Richard immediately improved on her invitation. Now that the weather is getting warmer, he would form a party to eat cold ham and chicken out of doors, though on reflection, perhaps it isn’t quite warm enough yet and perhaps we should wait a month or two. Pity. But no, never mind, he’d arrange a party indoors and invite all the young people in the neighbourhood so that Anna and Fanny could meet other young people of their own age—can’t be sitting in that cottage all day, moping. Georgiana must come too and that Steventon girl who always looks so serious. Or is she in Bath? Yes, that’s it, a jolly party for the young people, the very thing.

To his great credit, Sir R. has no more pressing solicitude than that of making his Cousins happy in their new home. Their time should pass pleasantly. He has often expressed uneasiness on that head, fearing the sameness of everyday society and employments might disappoint them.

As Sir Richard was putting the finishing touches to his party, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam returned home to find a very merry gathering. We were perhaps a little too merry for my Father, who had already retired to the library some time before. The good Colonel has now left Pemberley but promises to return in time for the ball (to take place the evening of the July full moon, the thirteenth.) His presence is a quiet one but his good humour and uncommonly amiable mind are sorely missed.

And so, my dear Jane, I hope you are just as merry in London and not exhausted from your rounds of social engagements, shops, theatres and other entertainments. Pray conserve your strength so that you will be able to take your part with equanimity in the even more demanding social life of Hertfordshire!

In an unusually worldly (but as usual, wordy) letter, Mary writes that she longs in equal measure for your return and for the delights of Mr. Bingley’s library; also that Kitty is pitiful company since her good friend, Maria Lucas, has gone with Lady Lucas to Hunsford to await Charlotte’s confinement. Moreover, my Mother’s nerves are in a sorry state, the result of having been abandoned not only by her Husband and her Daughter Jane, but now, too, by her friend Lady Lucas, who has had the bad manners to leave the neighbourhood just when she could be of some use. Lydia never writes, Lizzy doesn’t write often enough and in general Mamma finds herself quite ill-used. Poor Mary! Well, you will be home again soon and shortly thereafter we will be reunited at Longbourn. Perhaps together we will succeed in restoring Mamma to good health.

Charlotte, meanwhile, writes that since her condition has confined her to the house Lady Catherine has called on her several times at Hunsford. I have no doubt that Mr. Collins feels the very great honour she bestows upon his wife so keenly that he is obliged to express his gratitude very often and at very great length.

Yours affectionately,
Elizabeth Darcy